Imperfections
by WrightandWrong
Summary: 100 drabbles for Marlene McKinnon; Mostly about her not quite loves, but some about friends and families and all of the inbetweens of growing up in a time of war. MM/SB; MM/GP
1. Brown

**017. Brown**

"You know, I used to have serious self image issues." It's a simple statement, something not to be taken too deeply. He thinks on it for a moment, then pinches her cheek, leaning on his arm to peer at her. The sun shining through the leaves creates large patches of gold on her face, and her eyes shine like amber.

"Did you?" He chuckles a little, because she's attempting to touch her tongue to her nose, and it's cute and quirky, and sort of turns him on a little.

_Ah, Marlene_.

"Uh huh." She's done, failed in her actions, but she'll resume later and conquer it. She wins everything, and if she doesn't win, it wasn't worth wining. "I mean honestly, my father doesn't look me nor does my mother. When I was little, I was so confused."

Again, a light statement. A part of him wonders if she's ever deep, if she's ever heavy and serious and meaningful. He figures that she probably tells the girls her deep stuff. Lily is a good listener, and Alice gives good advice, and Emmeline is stern enough to make everything make sense.

He thinks of her parents. Her mother is beautiful, high cheekbones and a thin figure. All angles, like Marlene. Skin dark as the deepest chocolate, the same color of Marlene's eyes. Her father is the quintessential Scotsman. Big, rough and burly with the accent to match. Cream colored with green eyes and a bit of freckles. Marlene's freckles.

He counted them once, and he found just a few, compared to him at least. His are all over, fainter than his sisters, but very Irish and redhead none the less. Good thing sometimes he actually looks like a redhead.

"I can understand that."

She snorts and looks up at him. He stares, and she blinks once then returns to twirling her blade of grass. When had she gotten so occupied?

"What of your sisters though? They're the same color as you."

"But so many other differences. Audrina has paps green eyes, and Brene's hair is coarse like moms and Zoë's hair is the same color as yours." She pulls at one of his auburn curls and he focuses his eyes on her spiny fingers, causing his eyes to cross and a laugh to escape her lips. He wants to drink it up and have it fill him but instead he takes her hand and encircles it within his.

"You are certain in your identity now, then?" a deep question, he thinks, and he hopes she'll give a deep answer, so he can feel special, like Lily, or Emmeline, or Alice.

"Yes." She squeezes his hand with her too thing fingers and he brings it up to his lips to kiss.

"That's very good, then ." He says, rocking towards her. The man in him wants her closer still, but he'll not ruin the moment.

"Yes." She says lightly. "Yes."

* * *

Author's Note: So, I had this for a while, but I wanted to see if people were interested. I got a review asking me to update, and since these are drabbles, I figured I would. This one is a bit longer than the other two, and a bit less angsty. Some Marlene/Gideon almost love. *Sigh* Gideon is so sprung on her...


	2. Beginnings

**001. Beginnings**

He never says the majority of the things he thinks. It's a practice from his family, he's sure, and he'd never admit to being more like them than he'd like, but he is none the less, and if being a Black has done anything for him at all, it's allowed him to perfect the art of keeping quiet.

And even if he would like to thank Lily for finally taking James off of his hands, or persuade Remus to go out with Emmeline, he won't say a thing at all, because that would be a breach of his characteristic nonchalance.

Even now, as he lies next to Marlene, watching her scribble in the notebook he hadn't noticed the night before, he thinks to himself, _She's a writer?_ But he says nothing, because he remembers that girls hate it when you question something that you are already supposed to know…like their underwear size.

At this, he reaches under the bedspread and pulls down the back of Marlene's under wear a bit. His fingers skim over the Gaelic print inked on the small of her back, and he's noticed she's stopped writing, and he smiles.

Medium.

She's slightly bottom heavy, with a full behind and muscled legs.

"You've stopped." His voice is a rough. Lack of use, too much alcohol and drinking in Marlene. She makes a noise, and then begins scratching out the lines of text with fervor.

"I always have trouble with beginnings." She says simply.

Sirius wants to ask her if she means something more by that, but he figures he should already know the answer.

* * *

Author's note: Just an interlude into Sirius and Marlene and their not real relationship... sort of angsty, but...you know, whatever


	3. Surprises

**096. Writer's Choice: Surprises**

There are very few things that amaze him now, now that he has seen death and pain and suffering. He was right next to Dorcas when she breathed her last breath, heard her scream as a flash of green from Voldemort himself landed right in the middle of her chest. He wanted badly to stop and stare, to stop and help, to stop and do _something_ but it was Marlene who yelled at him, yelled at him to keep fighting and don't stop and just _go._

She amazed him then, the power in her voice, the unwavering bravery that she possessed, and he wondered if it was Dorcas inside of her, brave and beautiful Dorcas occupying the body of the one person who hated her. But then she turns to him and he sees in her eyes that it is just Marlene, rash, dangerous, reckless Marlene and he delves deeper into his fighting because they're counting bodies and he's down by three.

Later she's dirty. Covered in blood and grime of destruction and she walks into headquarters, kicks off her boots and falls into Prewett's waiting arms. Gideon places a kiss on her head, and Sirius holds in a laugh. At times like this Marlene deserves to be assaulted and fucked like there's no tomorrow. Cause there very well might not be. She looks at him and he looks back, trying hard to read her like he can everyone else. But she is mystery, even though she wears emotions on her face, it isn't the emotion he wants. Not the emotion that she truly feels.

The house is quiet and he wants to scream because he's always hated quiet after death, but he knows Remus will chastise him, or if not Remus, Emmeline, who would be worse than Remus is she didn't have nice breasts to look at. So he goes upstairs to his room, a luxury that comes from having the secret order of an anti-war operation running in his house.

A knock at the door and he wants it to be James or Remus, someone who he can joke with or even someone who will chastise him for sulking. Instead it's her, and he looks at the night sky and decides this is about right. It's been longer than he thought.

She's still dirty, and hardly beautifully, with the cut over her eyebrow and purple bruises forming on her fore arms. But she's there and he wants her and he knows that if he sits any longer she'll be forced to approach him and then she'll have the control which is never as fun.

His hands act of their own accord, skimming over her body with tenderness he doesn't feel towards her. Her eyes smolder, allowing him to see lust, and that hint of love that they've been trying to ignore for a while now. It's raw and passionate like the previous times, but they don't speak _at all_ and she refuses to spend the night and instead leaves almost instantly, covered in his scent mixed with sweat.

He watches her leave, ignoring that fraction of his mind that is making the left corner of his bottom lip twitch in the effort of not asking her to stay. Once he can't hear her heavy footfalls any longer he gets up and closes the door, vowing that it won't end like this tomorrow.

* * *

Author's note: Just for your reference, Marlene isn't bruised cause of Gideon, it's because of fighting. So yeah, it's not THAT angsty. Some more angst for Sirius and Marlene though. Because they need it. And obviously, this is after leaving Hogwarts, so i'm guessing between ages 19-20.


	4. Too Much

**033. Too Much**

She watches his silhouette sitting by the fire again, and she distinctly remembers that Gideon prefers to be warm instead of cold.

Gideon.

Fire.

Light.

Sirius.

Ice.

Darkness.

"I'd love you, you know?" He says, and she feels a piece of her heart chip off into her stomach. She hadn't even known that he was aware of her presence, and maybe that's why it hurt so much. "I'd take care of you and make love to you and treat you good. I'd love you so much, Marlene." His chuckle is uncharacteristically bitter.

She wants to shout at him. Tell him to stop, because she doesn't want it. She doesn't want to be taken care of, or made a wife. She can't see past tomorrow let alone ten years from now. She doesn't deserve him. She wants to scream, _It's too much, Gideon! I can't be the one for you_.

Instead, she turns and walks up to her room, closing the door and consequentially, the world.

* * *

Author's Note: ANGST!!! Aww, poor Gideon. He's so good and she's so...not.


	5. Ends

**003. Ends**

"What you thinking about?"

"Nothing."

"Lily and the baby?"

"No."

"Your sisters?"

"No"

"The end of the world?"

It's almost a joke, but not quite. She's silent for approximately twenty seconds and then--

"…Yes."

He hugs her close, because his world ended a long time ago.

* * *

Author's Note: Wanna guess who it is????


	6. Warnings

**097. Writers Choice: Omen**

"He's not good for you, Marly."

"You're being ridiculous."

"_Don't, Marlene."_

"It's all the same to him, Mack."

"He's one omy my best mates but…even I know he's not good…."

"I'll love you, Marlene."

She couldn't even count the warnings on both hands, and she wondered faintly if it only made it all more appealing.

* * *

Author's Note: Another guessing game. It'll be harder this time, because I haven't dealt with any other characters thus far, so you'd probably have no idea who they are considering I haven't characterized anyone else. I will tell you that Marlene is friends with Frank Longbottom, Emmeline Vance, Lily Evans, Remus Lupin, Gideon Prewett, Fabian Prewett, James Potter, and Alice (Elliott) Longbottom. There is a pool for you to choose from, teehee. I'll have more characterization of her friends and probably her sisters in later drabbles. I'll be writing more soon so get ready for a big upload!


	7. Red

**011. Red**

The morning is beautiful when it surrounds Gideon. His skin is pale and dewy with sweat, each freckle highlighted by the ethereal light shining down on him from the window. As Marlene watches him sleep, she is ever so thankful that she is an early riser. Thankful because none of the guys will catch her naked in their dorm, but mostly thankful that she can see Gideon in this beautiful golden light.

Her eyes trickle up his face like fairy footsteps, landing on the crown of auburn that is a burning fire with the rays of the sun. Redder than it'll ever be, Gideon looks like his head is aflame, and she loves it. It reminds her of the pictures of her grandfather, the few that they were able to take in color while he still had some in his hair, and it's redder than the blood that flows through her veins.

Marlene's fingers act of their own accord and run gently through the curly tendrils that rest above his brow, and he nuzzles sleepily into her touch. She smiles.

It's the first time that they've made love, and she wouldn't have it any way but this.

* * *

Author's Note: I wanted something nice for Gideon and Marlene, but for some reason this made me very sad. The main reason I wrote this was because I wanted to have a lot of sides to Marlene. There will be some fun and other non-relationship stuff coming up for her soon. I'm trying to really get her character out, but it's difficult. I could really get an image for this one, and I could definately imagine what Gideon looked like.

Hope you enjoy and cookies for reviewers! Also, if you have any requests for characters or themes or what not, just ask and I'll work them in there for you.


	8. Lightning

**068. Lightning**

"You'll catch a cold, Marlene." He chuckled as he stepped outside, a diversion for his ever present insomnia. The house vanished behind him like a whisper, drowned out by the lightning storm and the drizzly, dank rain.

Velvet, she settled on finally. His voice was like velvet, or rather, velvet being rubbed on sandpaper. Rough and granular, yet smooth and luxurious. Even if he secretly wanted to be a Potter, no one would ever doubt that he was a Black.

"You sound like Remus." She replied without turning to look at him. Her eyes were closed and the gentle, misty rain was caressing her face, and he wasn't worth a spare look when everything was this good.

Sirius stood about three paces behind her, just watching. This was all very much like Marlene Mckinnon. She was dressed only in a band t-shirt, a large picture of Myron Wagtail, lead singer of the Weird Sisters, on the back, and a charming pair of green knickers with white letters proclaiming "Everyone Loves a Scottish Girl." He could almost hear Emmeline's characteristic _tsk_ or Lily's half ashamed/half amused giggle at their friends antics, and his eyes scan her body _so_ slowly, just so he can be part of the scandal.

When she turns around, almost fittingly, a streak of lightning soars across the sky, lighting up her face in all her drenched, wind ravaged beauty. Her hair is a mass of thick, rolling waves, and he's sure if he looked at the nape of her neck, he'd be able to catch the small ringlet curls that would be gone before the morning.

* * *

Author's Note: No angst, right? I'm trying to do stuff besides angst. As you can see, the refrain about Marlene's curls on the back of her neck. It's just one of those character things that you develop over time. Her hair is naturally curly, or at least mostly, and when her hair gets wet, the ones on the back of her neck start to curl up. Review!


	9. Beautiful

**098. Writer's Choice: Beuatiful**

She wants to be beautiful. Goddamit she wants to be beautiful. She wants pale skin like Emmeline, and eyes the color of wet, spring grass like Lily, and legs like a gazelle (oh she'll never get over the entomology of names) and small, warm hands like Alice and…and…

Mirrors lie to her. They make her breasts seem large just because she's rather thin on top, and she seems elegant because she's tall, taller than Emmeline with half the dignity and half the morality and even less than half of the inside beauty.

Marlene is all about black eyeliner artfully done and full lips smiling a secret smile that holds no secrets. She can perfect the art of seduction with what little talent she has, and knows how to make her muscles looks less masculine and her hair a bit straighter and her waist a bit smaller.

_She knows_ and it's good, too, because if she didn't she's not exactly sure where she would be.

No, that's a lie. She knows exactly where she would be.

Because he'd love her if her hair was curly like it was when she was a child, and if her whole entire body was freckled, like his, and if her feet were the size of her father's and her hips as wide as her mother's (who birthed four children, for Merlin's sake) and he'd love her if she was nothing at all but a collection of body parts that don't fit together.

She hates him for it. She hates him because he actually loves her, not the wrapping, and she envies him because she's all about wrapping and looks and appearances and facades.

Only one person dares to call it vanity, but then again, he's vain too, and they touch each other with reverence because naked and intertwined, they're some type of beautiful.

* * *

Author's Note: I love this one. It's one of my favorites, besides Brown and Beginnings and Red. I just love the end line. Oh and if you're confused about the gazelle part, look up the name Dorcas. XD


	10. He

**084. He**

He is everything she isn't.

He is elegant to a point where it's painful.

All of him is effortless, beautiful in its fluidity.

Her smile tastes bitter as she thinks about how she tries to seem so graceful.

When he doesn't notice, she watches him.

Just to see him when he isn't mocking her, over confidant and cocky.

Here, he is beauty, tall and lithe, languid like water, moving with ethereal poise.

He is everything she isn't.

And she suddenly, venomously hates the cliché that opposites attract.

* * *

Author's Note: I wanted to try a more poetic style here. I also wanted to be able to characterize both Sirius and Marlene, but from her point of view. I don't think this one is angsty so...that's good! Ha, review!


	11. Sunrise

**031. Sunrise**

"You act as if the sun rises and sets with Marlene." Fabian comments, not unassumingly, with all of the venom of a jealous sibling. He isn't _entirely_ serious, yet Gideon reacts in all gravity, looking at his twin before turning to watch her again. Running on the grassy slopes of Hogwarts lawn, an orange sun flaming behind her, her skin is copper and her eyes the deepest, darkest onyx. The white of her large teeth contrast with the darkness of her silhouette, and Gideon sighs, allowing his thin lips to twitch into a small smile. "Maybe it does."

* * *

Author's Note: I replaced the other sunrise story because it wasn't truthful to Sirius' and Marlene's first kiss. This one is legitamate and goes better with the whole story I have in my head. I absolutely love this one. I think the statement that fabian says and Gideon's response is very Gideon. Also, for clarification...the orange sun isn't like following her. Picture it in you mind, it's sunset over the hill of the Hogwarts lands. And yes, i know it has been a long time!

Also, I have some song fics comming up in this series so keep a look out.


	12. Why

**080. Why?**

It occurs to him that at some point, he wants to own her. Maybe it's the way her hair whips in the afternoon breeze, making her look wild and unattainable. Maybe it's the stray tell-tale red hairs on her shirt, a product of playing and rolling around in the grass all afternoon with the Prewett. Maybe it's the fact that they never kiss, or that she never spends the night or that she's right handed but always eats with her left hand.

It never occurs to him that maybe it's because he just fucking loves her.

* * *

Author's Note: The f-bomb at the end might be unecessary. I'm not certain. But I put it in there for punctuation and because he's angry at himself and the thought of loving anyone is an angry thought. I don't know how I feel about this one...


	13. What

**077. What**

"You've been spending a lot of time with Black, Marly." Frank said, raising an eyebrow and smirking at her. It was times like this that Marlene could see exactly why Alice was in love with Frank. He wasn't the type of man who exuded sex, nor did he have a mysterious look, but he was boyish, and kind, in a very charming sort of way, and he when he attempted to be sexy it added to the whole lot, making him shine. She liked it.

"I spend a lot of time with _you_." She countered impishly, grinning madly at him before returning back to her Arithmancy chart. It was a disgustingly difficult subject, but she enjoyed the numerology of it all, and with Frank, Hestia, and Emmeline in the class, it made it pretty enjoyable. "What's this mean?" She questioned, pointing to her final number that she'd come across for her translation.

"Means that he would be ill advised to eat bagels with lox." Frank said quickly, checking the number and the chart she'd scribbled in the margins of her parchment. "And yes, you _do_ spend a lot of time with me. But then again, I'm not Sirius Black." She could feel his eyes on her, and almost see in her mind their clear, clear blue.

She continued scribbling on the parchment. "So, are you telling me, Mr. Longbottom, that because it is with Sirius Black that I spend so much time with, it is suspicious and thus worth an inquiry?" she asked of handedly, still writing.

Frank chuckled. "Yes, in less words of course, oh eloquent one."

"Don't mock me." She replied half heartedly. Placing her quill down resolutely, she looked at him. "And?" she drew the word out dramatically.

"And what?"

"I've been spending a lot of time with Sirius Black and…" Marlene prompted.

"…and I want to know why." He said. "I mean, I didn't even know you too associated." He added matter-of-factly.

"We don't." She shot back automatically, and she turned her head to keep him from seeing the blush that was creeping up her face. She was already defensive, and the tension in the room just got thicker as Frank picked up on it. She glanced at the door somewhat desparately, hoping that Alice would come in and whisk Frank away before he could ask anymore questions. He could come back when she was prepared, when she was ready. She wasn't ready now.

"So are you two friends?" Frank's voice was stony despite the question, and it made her look up at him.

"Not exactly." Was that her voice, croaking like that?

"Then what are you, Marlene?"

_..._

_His lean, hard body was dramatically close to hers, and she was enjoying the intimacy that they had easily picked up. It wasn't heavy and stifling and overbearing like Gideon, but fun and dangerous and unabashedly sexy. He passed her the joint he'd moistened with his lips, and when she inhaled she could taste the remnants of alcohol on his breath._

"_They're going to wonder what this is all about." It was a statement-question, and she sounded foolish and hopeful and naïve. He looked at her with a smirk and she tried her best to look cool. She was glad she wore eyeliner, it made her look older._

"_Yeah."_

"_And what should I tell them?" Another question, inclinging sharply at the end to a point where she sounded half her age. She was disgusting herself._

_He chuckled, took the join she passed back to him, took a toke and flicked it off of the balcony._

"_Tell them the truth." He said over his shoulder before walking out of the door._

_..._

"…what are you, Marlene?"

* * *

Author's Note: Another one that I really like. Frank and Marlene are really close friends. So he would definately call her out on it. At first it was going to be Fabian (it could change, still) but I figured he'd be too accusatory an involved, as would Emmeline. So Frankie got the spot. The change in justification (italics) is important. If you're confused about that part, just ask ;-)


	14. Who

**076. Who?**

"What do you think of Mckinnon?"

"...Marlene? What do you mean 'think' of her?"

Silence.

"What do _you_ think of her?"

" Well I haven't really thought about it before."

" Then why now?"

* * *

Author's Note: Oho! Another guessing game. This one should be easier. A bit. There are only a number of people these two could be. And yes, it's only two.


	15. Breakfast

**056. Breakfast**

The sun seeps through the dusty windows, dispersing as if through a spectrum and throwing the cold, dank room into strange relief. It's an achingly bitter morning and the woman's joints hurt; she is stiff from sleeping on his bad mattress, and inability to get to sleep only worsens this fact. It is conceivable, she thinks, that the lack of sheets and the mysterious stains and the cigarette burns wouldn't be quite so bad if the mattress was actually worth something instead of being just a sagging piece of shit he'd picked up one day.

But that is Sirius, and she nods, thinking, she wouldn't have him any other way. He is second hand, remnants of someone else's glory days, glossed over with pretty paint, but still cracked and scarred underneath. She can see _that_ quite clearly in his eyes, even if he won't let her see anything else. It's only been three years, but 19 has never looked (or felt) so old, and she can only wonder what her reflection looks like.

At some point she stopped looking in the mirror. She can comb her hair and coif it without much effort and a bit of rouge and chapstic don't take much at all. Sirius always tells her she looks beautiful (it stopped being genuine ages ago) and it seems that's all she really needs.

It's Sunday morning again, and as the sun makes its way in, Dorcas goes about her routine. A single pan on the burner, lit with the wand holding up her bun (releasing golden hair with a flourish). The flat is quiet, save for the nibbling of the friendly mouse they can't prompt to leave, and the few birds who are still trying to come up with a song. Dorcas envies their resistance, their will to stay despite the chill of winter. She's cold in Sirius' old shirt, considering her long legs are free to the cutting air, so she jumps up and down rapidly in order to keep her blood flowing. She hums the familiar tune that the larks outside sing, and she thinks to herself, if he came in just at this moment, he would love her again.

He doesn't come in.

She turns her head and leans back a bit to peer through the door to the bedroom, as if he'll magically appear at the door jamb, watching her. He isn't there, but rather still wrapped up in the moldy comforter, sleeping off (assumedly) the effects of alcohol and the feeling of someone else under his nimble fingers. She feels alone this Sunday morning, but she makes breakfast all the same, because she is certain, that, not matter who he was with (although she knows, she _knows_ who), he will always return home.

She says the word with a familiarity, casualness, and it's almost ironic that her never unpacked suitcase is what's propping the table leg up. It's also ironic that her clothes are never in the drawer he cleaned out for her, nor does her toothbrush make a pair with his on the sink. This is home for her, but she does not live here six days of the week, and she chokes on the irony swirling with the smoke of breakfast.

It's a bit morbid that she cooks pancakes every Sunday; her grandfather's recipe, on the very day that he died. She knows it, but ignored it, chopping chunks of bananas into the pancakes lazily, just as her ears tune into Sirius rising from the dead.

She feels him closing in on her after a moment or two, and she is proud that she doesn't melt into his form. Blacks are sensual beings, longing for human touch, and it seems he can't resist her even now, but she is angry, and she won't give him the satisfaction of getting the slip. He places a kiss at the base of her neck, and mumbles into her skin.

"What are you saying?" she questions testily, flipping over the pancakes with skill.

"Morning…" He murmurs, into the crook of her neck, his hands resting on her soft hips as he pulls her slightly to him from behind. The first night she stayed, she had smiled at that, and the second and the third she smiled as well. But tonight was the sixty-eighth night she'd stayed over, and the Black magic had lost its charm. Her lips twist into a wry, poor impersonation of what they used to be, but he's too busy with her neck to notice.

"Morning." She replies, clipped and chilly, not unlike the air streaming in from the permanently cracked window. Sirius inhales, more into her than the rising scents from the pan, but comments all the same.

"Smell's good," he growls.

The shiver that goes through her spine at that is unexpected, and she almost vomits with the realization that he still affects her. Sixty-eight nights stayed over, and he could still get her even when she was expecting it. He moves away and ambles slowly over to the small kitchenette table, his eyes watching her. She turns to look at him, and meets his lazy eyes and his half smile. He is unashamedly flawless, even with his rumpled black hair, old dirty boxers, and unshaved chin. He is 19 and beautiful and she knows that she dims in comparison.

"Banana-nut." She explains, breaking into the silence with her soft, delicate voice. Dorcas stacks the steaming cakes onto a cracked plate and levitates them along with silverware to the table. Sirius has helpfully magicked the syrup, as well as a cup of milk for her and black coffee for himself. He nods and makes a non committal noise of approval, reaching to skewer a cake onto his fork as she sits down.

"What are your plans today?" She asks around a mouthful.

"The baby's room needs painting. James has commissioned Remus and I." he says to his pancake.

"And Peter?"

"Has issues with paint."

She chuckles and reaches forward to wipe some syrup from the side of his mouth. He smiles and kisses her retreating fingertips. It's like a waltz and almost sentimental, sticky and sweet like the syrup.

"What about you?"

"I might amble into work; get a head start on Monday's paperwork."

"You work too much."

"You don't work enough."

He grins widely, looking like an over eager child.

"Order meeting tonight." She reminds him.

"I was thinking of playing hookey."

"Sirius!"

"Just joking, love, you know I couldn't."

He says the word with the ease of common use, and she is suddenly not very hungry anymore. She has started to love him like she loves oxygen, gasping with need the moment he's gone, but she doesn't notice when he's there. The room is quiet save for the clink of forks on plates, and it smells like pancakes and McKinnon's gaudy perfume; He needs her,Dorcas, and she can't say no, because she's cold, and lonely, and she can only cook pancakes for breakfast.

And she needs him too.

* * *

Author's Note: Oh my, this is...a lot of angst. It chokes me up, reading this one. Dorcas and Sirius' relationship is complex, but I want to differentiate it from Marlene and Gideon's. I hope that worked out. You'll see more of Dorcas because she's a fun character. Please REVIEW!


	16. If

**082. If**

Marlene can't imagine anything anymore. Her mind is colorless, bland and bone dry, dragging along as she sits in her cold loft, trying to get her pen to make something out of nothing. Her journal's pages are tearstained and craggy, but she has nothing left to scribble in.

It's as if her entire world has shattered.

She misses his warm body snuggled so closely to hers, and she miss his soft, large hands, and his loving gaze, always there, a constant in such inconstant times. She misses the tickle of his stubble on her shoulder as he kissed her good morning. She misses him warming her feet with his own.

She misses his smile.

Marlene never considered that he wouldn't be there, never imagined that he'd stop trying. She never thought that he would make her choose, and even more, never thought that if she chose wrong, he would end things.

It is a Wednesday morning that Marlene considers, she may spend the rest of her pathetic life waking up alone.

* * *

Author's Note: UPDATE!!!! This is a really sad one, I know. But Marlene needs to have some remorse. You guys can guess which guy she's talking about, but if you guess wrong, you've obviously not been keeping up with my subtle characterization methods ^-^. Please review!!!

**To my reviewers:**

xoxcrescentmoonxox- You're chapter about other Order members is coming up soon. It's a couple that is in the world of this fandom so, Hope you're excited for that!


	17. Birthday

**091. Birthday**

She was flying. She could practically feel the day's drudgery being singed off by the frostbite of winter, her face hot with cold and her mind going blissfully blank. They flew over Muggle London, and Marlene leaned over to see the lights beneath them, twinkling like stars in the black expanse. Her hands fastened tighter around his waist as she placed her right cheek to his back. She could feel the hardness of his body at such a close proximity, and she wondered vaguely if her own body felt as hard. The scent of cloves, whiskey, and cigarette smoke lingered on his jacket, wafting to her nose every time she allowed her eyes to drift shut, as if to remind her whose company she was keeping hat night. She would have felt guilty, or at least mildly aware that it wasn't Gideon to whom she clutched so tightly, but the icy chill numbed her brain and she drew in closer for warmth.

The bike decelerated, slipping into lower altitudes until they were nearly touching the ground, just grazing over the inch of early snow that had white washed the street. The powder fell all around them, sticking 'Sound of Music' style to her nose and eyelashes, as well as to Sirius' sheet of midnight black hair. It blew with the wind, swirling around them as they rode, until they stopped at an abandoned child's playground. He slowed expertly, and right before he stopped, she quickly swung her legs over, jumped off and sprinted across the dusted grass.

He watched her with an inscrutable gaze, climbing off of the bike lithely then turning to lean on it. Her wild hair, no longer reaching to her back but now closer to her ears, streamed behind her as she ran, galloping across the field. She turned and looked at him, and though he could barely make out her form in the blowing snow, he could sense that she wanted him to follow her. He stood up slowly, then chased after her, bounding with speed sputtering as snow flew into his eyes and mouth.

Faster than she, although she'd never admit it, he caught up with her quickly, panting slightly and watching his breath come out in white puffs of smoke. He lagged three large paces behind her, as she watched him, slowly walking backwards. He stopped when she stopped, still three paces away, waiting for his next move.

Her face turned skywards, her eyes drifting closed once more to feel the soft, tender brush of snow on her skin. She did not move; not a finger twitched nor a lash quivered. She stood completely still, allowing the world to devour her whole. Finally, she inhaled slowly, then, letting it out, dropped her head to look back at Sirius. She crooked a finger, beckoning him closer, and he chuckled at her irony. He came very near, and they looked at each other, breathing shallowly, shivering slightly, with excitement and with cold. Her gaze drifted over his form, taking him in as she always did, dancing over his features with her eyes, memorizing them: The steel grey eyes, fathomless and intense; an aristocratic nose to match lips with the slightest of arrogant lilts; a jaw, hardened and masculine, contrasted by the thick blowing obsidian of his hair. She closed her eyes again, to picture him in her mind, but was jolted as he spun and her hugged her close, her back to his chest, his mouth by her ear.

She leaned her head back slightly, the favored position already beginning to affect her. Her smiled to himself at her wantonness, reaching into his jacket pocket. His cold fingers fastened around the chain in his pocket as he fished it out, bring his arms to meet in front of her. He held the ends of the chain delicately, one in each hand, and fastened it around her neck. Her made sure to brush the top of her breasts as he adjusted the charm to sit directly atop the valley between them, then placed his mouth to her ear once more.

"Happy Birthday."

* * *

Author's Note: I wanted something sexy and dialogueless for Sirius and marlene. They'll be some dialogue with them soon, but I honestly am having a very difficult time deciding what they would talk about. I mean, I don't know, I have to ruminate on it. Anyway, this peice is just ridiculously hot. Like come on, they're not even doing anything...but it's damn sexy!


	18. Choices

**086. Choices**

Gideon thinks about it. When he's stuck at the Burrow with Molly and Arthur, Fabian and Hestia (and noticeably NOT Gideon and Marlene), he contemplates it, his brow furrowed with intensity.

He ponders it. Pushing papers at the ministry he ponders it, as he hears from the cubicle over, her drumming her small, childlike fingers on her desk to some band that he can never keep up with, and he wonders if her small smiles and "Hello, Gideon's" could mean something little more.

Finally he asks her. He is confident when he does it, and she mistakes him for Fabian, because Gideon is shy and quiet and doesn't ask girls out. But then she shakes her thin brown hair, her eyes smiling with embarrassment, because Fabian is practically engaged and why the hell would he ask her on a date.

She fits right. Her hands fit perfectly in his own, instead of Marlene's too big ones, and she is shorter, more lady like. She's thin, and reminds him a bit of Alice Longbottom, but her face isn't nearly as cheery and her lips aren't nearly as pink. She is nice in her own way, and Gideon likes her, and when he kisses her cheek after dropping her home, the thought lingers.

At their first Order meeting, Marlene walks in, returned from a break in Scotland (_he_ knows she was running way, but Fabian advises him not to say anything), her accent suddenly heavy and her face more freckled. She's cut her hair, short and stylish and damn sexy, he'll say (as does Sirius Black). Everyone receives her with open arms, and Lily, Emmeline and Alice act as if she never left, and then he thinks, 'she's sent them letters'. She's kept in touch with all of them, telling them everything, and no time has passed at all. It's been all of six months, but she's changed so drastically and he hasn't changed at all, except that he has a new girl sometimes attached to his arm.

She saunters to him after everyone else has strayed into the dining room, making him feel special. The blush on his cheeks is hot and embarrassing, but he can do nothing with it. She doesn't have to lean up at all to kiss him on the lips and he lets her. It's soft, quick, yet not quite sisterly and he chokes on the pain inside.

She wraps her too big hand in his and pulls him into their first Order meeting, and the next day he owls Kara, as opposed to sending her an interdepartmental memo. It's simple, and a clean, and very Marlene like, with all the shortness that holds too much emotion:

_Nevermind._

_-G_

_

* * *

_Author's note: OMG LOVE THIS ONE. I love Gideon, honestly, he's so adorable. He just makes me feel so good inside. Kara is an OC. I migth change her to somone cannon for some drama. I don't know...

I realized that it could be quite difficult to get the timeline of this thing down. I also realized that my timeline is a bit off as well. I'll have to fix some things, edit a bit, once i work out a difinitive timelie. That will be later though so...keep eyes peeled for edits, mkay???


	19. Birth

**029. Birth**

She had never liked babies. They looked so breakable, and she was prone to breaking things (broomsticks, fingers, hearts…) and it scared her that at some point in time not so long ago (had it _really_ only been twenty years?) she had been small and breakable too.

But she goes.

Remus comes to her flat and asks her to go, his smile warm as he ignores the telltale signs of her nomadic existence. And when she sees the fat lump of pinkish flesh, and the startling yet not unattractive combination of Lily's bright green eyes and potter's unruly black hair, Marlene thinks that maybe—just maybe—there is hope for their tomorrow.

* * *

Author's Note: Just a little peice about Marlene's feelings when Harry was born. Yay for Remus being the messenger boy, teehee.


	20. Touch

**038. Touch**

Gideon traces his fingers over her face, wondering faintly if he could leave some DNA on her skin. The second the thought pops into his head, it sounds strangely sadistic and psychopath-esque, and he shakes his head, trying to clear it, but it's no use.

In sleep he remembers how old she is, and it fills him with slight satisfaction because she actually looks her age and he doesn't feel quite so out of place. The planes of her face are smooth and angular and it's her ugly-beauty that draws him in for a kiss on the lips.

She smiles and turns towards him, moving closer uncharacteristically. He chuckles at this, because it's so unlike her (she told him the morning after their first night that she hated sleeping in the bed with other people) and tucks the moment away in his heart for days when her spot is left cold and empty.

* * *

Author's Note: *sigh* Gideon is so wonderful. Don't you love him??? I think he's so cute and loving.


	21. How

**081. How**

The magnetism was easy to define but not easy to understand. She amazed him, that he knew, and that was the reason why he wanted her so badly. But he couldn't quite gasp _how_ she amazed him.

There was nothing overly extraordinary about her. Every time he compared her to the many other girls that he could like, she always came up short. Emmeline was stunning, breathtaking with her pale, pale blonde hair, frosty eyes and creamy skin. She looked like an angel, elegant and ethereal, yet forbidden and delicate.

Lily was fiery and unique, with those eyes of hers that could turn James Potter into William Shakespeare with his plethora of pick-up lines. She was easily an exotic beauty with the girl next door charm.

Dorcas was the golden girl. Smart, funny, and flirtatious she was Helen of Troy with Black as her doting and equally beautiful Paris Alexandros. Long golden locks with longer legs and eyes warm and brown, she was clearly everyone's pick as the utmost perfect girl.

Marlene wasn't any of that.

She was a weird and deliciously sensual combination of masculine roughness with feminine sexuality, with her long angular body, wide mouth and deep eyes. Every movement she made exuded sex, from her strong stance and her muscled arms, to the curvature of her whittled waist and flat abs. She was athleticism and eroticism and cynicism, mixed up and spit out at you bitterly, sans remorse.

Yes, remorseless. That was Marlene.

Fabian had warned him from day one, the moment Gideon had laid eyes on her, sitting in the compartment with her feet propped up against the window, voluminous hair tumbling off the seat like chocolate lava. He'd warned him, "Don't go in there Gid, we'll find another compartment…" and already moved on down the corridor, but it was too late. Gideon wasn't sure if he liked girls yet (he was still in a stage where they were rather yucky and undesirable) but the scarred up knobby knees and the wickedly mocking smile (she was a tease, even then) was unlike any girl's he'd ever see.

And he opened the door, not bothering to apologize for knocking --who he would later know as Frank—in the shin, and she spared him a look and his mouth was glued shut.

"Sit down, yeah?" She said, altogether without enthusiasm, and he spent the whole ride deciding that chocolate brown (the color of all that hair) was his absolute favorite color.

* * *

Author's Note: So I had to do a 'Hopw they met piece' Gid was sprung from the get go. Also, I love the lack of dialogue here, and I think that I got characterizations down pretty good. Yay for Fabian being the older, smarter twin, and yay for Marlene/Frank friendship!


	22. She v1

**085. She**

She was full of contradictions. An angular face with a strong square jaw, almost masculine in construction, was offset by the darkest doe eyes and longest lashes. Her lips were wide and full, and when she smiled, the thing took up too much of her face and made her look comically young and ugly; yet, it was easily the most beautiful thing about her. Her hair was neither curly nor straight, but a strange, roiling combination of the two: thick and heavy like molasses. Even her body, which seemed too long and too athletic for a girl, was beset with a hint of curvature that she wouldn't allow him to ignore.

Marlene McKinnon was flawed and unpretty, and in hindsight, Sirius had always known that she would be his undoing.

* * *

Author's Note: I had like four versions of this drabble from different perspectives; this one I like because of the last line, which I think I'm getting pretty good at. There is also one from Gideon's point of view and I may or may not add it at the end or put it on my profile or something...

To my reviewers: CrescentMoon, haven't forgot about your other Order character chapter! It's almost finished


	23. Work

**089. Work**

It was very rare that Remus got angry. It did happen, certainly, like when would not say 'thank you' if he held the door open for them, or when his foot got caught in the vanishing step while he was on his way to Potions. But it never manifested itself into anything less pious than a resolute grunt and tightening of his lips. Now, however, Remus was fuming and his reaction was far more colorful than usual. Fatigue from the night's stake out was still hanging heavily around his eyes, and his blood was boiling with the steady approach of the full moon. He hadn't wanted to argue, but Emmeline's icy tone had caught him off guar, propelling him into a rage that had been building for days.

It also didn't help that they were forced to fight in whispers in the dingy kitchen of Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

"It's outrageous, that's what it is, absolutely outrageous. They're hurting everyone, it's completely insincere, and yet no one wants to do anything–"

" I don't know what you would have me do, Emmeline!" he whispered furiously, nearly breaking a plate in two as he threw it down into the sink. He could only roll his eyes at her scandalized '_Remus!'_, too aggravated to give it much thought.

"I don't know, _talk_ to him, perhaps? Is that too hard of a concept to comprehend?" she responded, her eyes staying on the cups that she was placing in the cabinet.

"Don't do that." Remus said, annoyed. "Don't act as if I'm the dumb one here. Of course, I tried to talk to him, it's just he–" He broke off suddenly, noticing that his voice was beginning to crack.. "It's just that he _won't_ _listen_. Why _would _he listen to me? He only listens to James." His head snapped over to her suddenly, finding her eyes on him at last, then he looked away again.

"And has James tried anything?" She asked, her voice painfully tender.

"He wants to stay out of it. It's too messy for him." He stopped wiping the plate in his hand and placed it carefully on the counter before looking at her. She looked tired, paler than usual, her white blonde hair lacking it's luster and sheen. Even her eyes, their pale, pale blue that always made her look so young, aged her tremendously. She was old to him now.

"Too messy." she spat out bitterly, turning away from his searching gaze. "No one ever wants to deal with anything. _That_ is what's wrong with this organization. Everything is too much, '_we'll deal with it later'_, pushing it off until it gets so much under the rug that we can't find it anymore."

"Maybe it isn't our fight, maybe we should just leave it–"

"Leave it!" She burst forth so loudly he was certain the glassware shook. "Leave it alone, " she said again, softer this time. "How could you even _think_ that? They're hurting people Remus,"

"I know–"

"And not just Dorcas and Gideon, but Lily and James and Alice and Frank and you and me..." That time it was she that looked up quickly, not realizing her words. He held her gaze for only a second before turning away and nodding for her to continue.

"He's bad for her. Whether he is your friend or not her can't love her and we can't let this go on."

"Look, Em, I highly doubt it's even happening anymore, I definitely saw her and Prewett the other day so I'm certain that it's over–"

The door banged open, cutting them off as Marlene waltzed in, languid in inebriation. Emmeline blushed angrily at her choice of clothes– an old Gryffindor jumper that clearly belong to Sirius and tiny knickers-- as well as the obvious passion mark that was making an appearance on her breastbone. Marlene walked by them, giggling uncharacteristically at Remus before going to the cabinet above the stove, grabbing a bottle of gin, and walking out of the kitchen.

Emmeline watched Marlene's skimpy undergarments until they rounded the corner, then turned, rapidly placing cups in the cabinet.

"It's obviously _not_ over."

* * *

Author's Note: Dedicated to xoxcrescentmoonxox. It's here at last!! Remus/Emmeline because they're the only responsible people in this whole crazy universe.


	24. Sixth Sense

**035. Sixth Sense**

There was something strange going on with his brother, but Fabian couldn't put his finger on it. It frustrated the Ravenclaw in him, nagging at his need to know everything, but more so his twinstincts. They were out of whack because of all of Gideon's fluctuating emotions.

"Just ask him about it, Fabe." Hestia suggested, not so gently when he huffed for the umpteenth time. His lack of action was aggravating the Gryffindor in her, and she was tempted to push him off of her lap and right into the dorm with his brother. Instead, however, struck with a sudden pang of sympathy, she continued her gentle raking through his short auburn hair, decidedly silent.

"I can't just _ask _him, Hestia. It doesn't work that way." He whined, turning slightly so that half of his sentence was lost in the softness of her stomach.

"I can't understand you when you do that, dear…" Hestia said lightly pushing at his shoulders until he was laying face up on her lap again. "Now, what did you say?"

Fabian exhaled loudly. "It doesn't work that way." He repeated with a pout. Hestia pursed her lips, rolling her eyes. Her small finger tapped the side of her jaw as she peered down at him.

"It can. He's your brother Fabian. Your _twin_. If it doesn't 'work that way' then you better make it work _some_ way because there is obviously a problem, you can see it in his face…" Fabian was struck by her tone, and he realized she was under the same stress he was. He remained silent for a moment, contemplating and analyzing, as usual. Would he find his brother sad, disappointed? Enraged? Who he be _angry_ at him, at _her_?

He wiped a hand over his ace, sighing and bending at the waist to raise himself off of Hestia's lap. Her looked at her and found that her face had transformed into worry, startled that he had moved so suddenly.

"I'm going to go talk to him." He announced unnecessarily. She turned away, biting at the inside of her cheek, then turned back to him. He stood, slipping into his trainers as he stretched his arms over his head.

"Fabe…" Hestia croaked, her black eyes shining and unsure. The Gryffindor was no longer begging for action, but instead, asking for time. "Just be…she's my friend too, you know…"

Fabian nodded, shivering slightly as he planted a kiss on her forehead. "I don't know anything, Hestia. If she does, she'd best be warned that it's coming undone."

* * *

Author's Note: This is another less amazing version of the pervious chapter for crescent moon. See, love, I made you two! I don't think you guys have met my Hestia yet, and we'veonly had a small taste of Fabian. Hestia and Fabian are like soooo cute. I love them a lot!


	25. Triangle

**042. Triangle**

He just wants to kiss her. He just wants to kiss her and know if she'll taste like rain, or whiskey. Or Scotland. Or maybe he just wants to because she doesn't let him. He knows that he can't, or rather, he won't, because of some rules she set up so long ago he can't remember, but looking at how she kisses Prewett a jealousy rages through him like he's never felt.

It's when she kisses Gideon goodbye for work, tugging on the red hairs at the base of his neck, then turns and leaves him in the lift, only to grab Sirius and shag him in the loo that he considers it all very complicated.

* * *

Author's Note: I know, I know finally! I updated. And it's not much but i wanted to establish something important. Sirius and Marlene never kiss...have you noticed that? More soon, I swear!


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